


no one to kiss at midnight

by simplyclockwork



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, POV John Watson, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28466394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork
Summary: Newly single, John finds himself alone on New Year's Eve. Surrounded by merry-making strangers, he can't help but wish he'd stayed home.Meeting a stranger on a balcony changes his mind.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 86
Kudos: 166
Collections: Sherlock and John Stories that Ease the Soul





	no one to kiss at midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PatPrecieux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/gifts), [AnneCumberbatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/gifts), [OmalleyMeetsTibbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmalleyMeetsTibbs/gifts), [EstrellaCreek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstrellaCreek/gifts), [Hobbitsfeet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbitsfeet/gifts), [Sam_the_Skald](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_the_Skald/gifts), [emilycare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilycare/gifts), [Slow_Burn_Sally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/gifts), [Yorkiepug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yorkiepug/gifts), [FinAmour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinAmour/gifts), [Purrfectlmt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purrfectlmt/gifts), [Peanitbear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanitbear/gifts), [BlissfullyChelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlissfullyChelle/gifts), [detafo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/detafo/gifts), [obviouslySherlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslySherlock/gifts), [SherlockWatson_Holmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWatson_Holmes/gifts), [ShakespearelovedLadyMacbeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakespearelovedLadyMacbeth/gifts), [KezialovesShandJohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KezialovesShandJohn/gifts), [Strange_johnlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strange_johnlock/gifts), [S_IRIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_IRIS/gifts), [smollsherl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smollsherl/gifts), [jimi_rules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimi_rules/gifts), [PrinceBSlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceBSlocked/gifts), [InkAtHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkAtHeart/gifts), [saintscully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintscully/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Некого поцеловать в полночь](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606626) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)



> This is my 160th work. I couldn't go into the New Year with an odd number. I hoped to write a smut fic, but I didn't have the time. So this happened instead. I hope those who read enjoy it.
> 
> I'm dedicating this to some of the people who have made this year so much better by commenting, reading and encouraging my writing. There are so many more than those listed, and if I missed you, please know that you are just as appreciated! 
> 
> Happy New Year everyone! May 2021 bring us all less insanity than 2020 did. 🎉

It was New Year’s Eve, ten minutes to midnight. Standing among strangers with a warm beer in hand, John was alone, in more ways than one. Despite RSVP-ing to the party with a plus one, he found himself attending stag with a freshly broken heart.

Six weeks prior, his boyfriend of two years moved overseas, and their long-term relationship came to an abrupt end. It still smarted, and John had considered staying home tonight. If not for the guilt trip applied by his friends, he would have. But here he was, with his friends nowhere in sight, his ex somewhere in America, and him all alone.

As everyone around him began to pair up, excitement sparking over their expectant faces, John felt morose. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, and he pushed through the crowd as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight.

He abandoned his beer and found his way onto a balcony, out into fresh air. The railing was festooned with bright, multi-coloured lights, the leftover, festive remnants of Christmas.

Bracing his elbows against the railing, John looked out at the view. The party host's flat overlooked the Thames, and John watched the water turn the moon’s reflection into silver ripples.

He let his focus fade, eyes blurry as he heard the din from within the flat rise as midnight drew nearer. Checking his watch, he saw there were four minutes to go.

The screen door slid further open behind him, then shut, cutting out the sounds from inside. Startled, John looked over his shoulder as a man paused just past the door. He was halfway to lighting a cigarette. One hand cupped around the wavering flame of a lighter, he stared at John. He was tall, curly hair spilling thick and careless over his pale brow.

In the semi-dark, John saw his eyes were the same colour as the moon reflected on the Thames below.

Clearing his throat, the man plucked the cigarette from his lips and said, “Do you mind if I smoke?”

John blinked, startled by the man’s deep, sonorous voice. Slowly, he shook his head. “Be my guest,” he said, gesturing to the empty bit of railing next to him.

“Thanks.” The man placed the cigarette back between his full, plush lips, lit the tip, and tucked his lighter into the pocket of his long, dark coat. He hesitated before moving to stand next to John.

For a moment, they were silent. Two strangers in an unexpected place. One staring at the Thames, the other blowing a thin, grey plume of smoke into the chill night air.

“Not interested in the party?”

The stranger’s question startled John from his wool-gathering. “Sorry?”

Taking another slow drag from his smoke, the man looked at him over the burning ember end. He finally turned his head and exhaled into the empty air beyond the balcony before he looked at John again.

“The party.” He nodded at the closed glass door. “Can’t help but notice that you’re outside when everyone else is inside.”

John skirted the question. “You’re outside, too.” His reply earned him a quiet chuckle. The sound was like crushed velvet, soft and deep.

“True. But I’m not much of one for parties." The man stared at his cigarette, shrugged and flicked ash over the balcony. The light breeze seized the offering, spinning the sooty dust off into the night. “Which is why I asked if you were the same.”

John lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “No one to kiss at midnight,” he admitted, only half-joking. Maybe it was the loneliness or the fact that he’d just gone through several weeks of gruelling pre-med course exams, but he was feeling oddly truthful.

The man leaned against the railing. He watched John silently for a moment before grinding out his cigarette against the metal. He stuck out a hand.

“Sherlock,” he said.

John stared at the offered hand with a small frown. “Excuse me?”

The man rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers. “My name is Sherlock Holmes. And yours?”

“Uh. John Watson,” John replied, slowly reaching out to shake the stranger’s — _Sherlock’s_ — hand. Sherlock’s palm was warm and dry, his grip firm before their arms dropped back to their sides.

“Nice to meet you, John. You study medicine,” Sherlock said, and John blinked.

“How do you…?”

Sherlock waved a dismissive hand. “I observed. Doesn’t matter right now. I’ll tell you another time when we’re not nearing a deadline.”

His frown deepening, John repeated, “Deadline?”

“Yes.” Sherlock raised an arm, pushing the sleeve back to check an expensive-looking watch. “It’s nearly midnight.”

John blinked. “I’m… I’m not sure I understand.”

Another eye roll from Sherlock. “You said you didn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight.”

“Ye-es,” John said slowly, drawing the word out.

Sherlock fixed him with a keen look. “Am I not someone?” He took a step closer, and John narrowed his eyes.

Taken-aback by the forwardness of the statement, John cleared his throat. “Alright, hold on,” he said, holding up a hand. Sherlock tilted his head to the side in silent affirmation as John tried to make sense of what was being said. “Are you suggesting that I kiss you?"

Sherlock nodded, looking pleased. “I am.”

Despite his shock at the simple response, John found his eyes drawn to Sherlock’s mouth. His lips really were quite plush. They looked soft and well-cared for, no peeling skin or dry, cracked spots…

John shook his head and frowned again. “How do you even know I’m into that? Kissing blokes, I mean.”

Instead of looking contrite for the assumption, Sherlock grinned. It was a charming expression, both lighting up his pale eyes and giving him a double chin. It softened his sharp features, and John thought it rather sweet.

“Same way I knew you were a medical student. Potential make-out partners shouldn’t be _complete_ strangers.” At John’s continued confusion, Sherlock sighed and added, “Again, we’re on a tight schedule here, so if you’re interested, you’d better hurry up and make up your mind about my offer.”

But John hardly needed the incentive. His decision was made. He checked his watch, heard the countdown starting in the room beyond the glass door, and found his resolve.

 _Ten!_ came the voices from inside.

John took a step forward.

_Nine!_

John took another.

_Eight!_

Sherlock, looking as if he’d been about to say something more, closed his mouth with a click. A small, tentative smile curved his lips.

_Seven!_

John reached out, his hands hesitating between them.

_Six!_

Sherlock took his hands, slowly lacing their fingers together.

_Five!_

Their palms met, and John crowded close enough to smell the lingering scent of cigarettes on Sherlock’s skin. It was a bitter, acrid smell, tempered only by the faint tang of coffee beneath.

_Four!_

Sherlock’s teeth pressed into his bottom lip for just a second, just long enough for John to see a flash of something like shyness pass through his eyes. It was there then gone, fleeting.

_Three!_

John slid a hand free and reached up, his fingers brushing Sherlock’s cheek. His skin was warm and soft, and the edge of his jaw fitted perfectly into John’s palm.

_Two!_

Sherlock tilted his head downward, eyes sliding closed. John stared at his face before he, too, closed his eyes. Their heights were off, and he lifted off his heels, feeling Sherlock tilt closer.

_One!_

Their mouths brushed, tentative, hesitating before confidence bloomed, and the brush became a press. John felt his lips slot against the dip between Sherlock’s, just a brief fit. It was tantalizing, a whisper of more, followed by warmth and a humid exhale as Sherlock parted his lips.

His tongue darted out, flicked over John’s teeth and past, meeting John’s own seeking tongue. They pressed closer, finding that sweet spot where the shared bliss of a first kiss overcame the sheer lack of familiarity.

John tilted his head, let Sherlock chase him, let him deepen the kiss before taking control. They parted for a quick snatch of breath, heard the raucous shouts of _Happy New Year!_ within the flat, and came together again.

This time, the kiss was greedy. John experienced what a soft groan tasted like on Sherlock’s tongue, and Sherlock swallowed down John’s answering sound. Hands slipped beneath coats, found waists and the jut of a hip, and the noise of a celebrating city crashed around them like the distant sound of the shore.

When they finally broke apart again, they were panting, sharing quick, heavy exhales between swollen lips.

“Well,” John said, once he’d caught his breath, “that was…” He shook his head, searching for and failing to find the right words.

Sherlock seemed to have no such issue. He smiled, John feeling the curve of his lips against his own, and said, “Not terrible.”

John snorted and moved to pull away. But Sherlock looped a finger through his belt loop and tugged him back. John went easily, fisting a hand in Sherlock’s thick, woollen coat. He gave as good as he got, nipping Sherlock back when Sherlock scraped his teeth over John’s bottom lip.

Their breathing was audible when they separated.

“Alright,” John said, stepping back and smoothing his clothing straight. “Well. Happy New Year, then.”

Sherlock flashed him a grin. “Happy New Year.”

Cocking an eyebrow at him, John said, “I’m not usually one to make-out with strangers on balconies in the middle of the night, but I suppose that might change if you’re up for a coffee?” Feeling a lingering flush in his face, John squinted and added, “You did say you’d explain how you knew my university major and sexual preferences once we weren’t on a schedule.”

Sherlock’s grin widened. “That I did, John.” He straightened his own clothes, pulling a scarf from his pocket. As he began to wind it around his neck, he tipped his head to the side and said, “Lead the way.”


End file.
